Just My Luck free porn video

Just my Luck! By Virginia Kane Standard caveat applies. Please do not post onto any other website without express written permission of the authoress. If reading explicit adult fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are not yet eighteen years of age, read no further and go do something innocent and constructive. 1. P.O.V.: Don: Friday evening, 5:08 P.M. I was standing on the corner right outside of the building where I work, waiting for the traffic light to change, when the car in front of me suddenly comes to a screeching halt to avoid hitting a mindless pedestrian who stepped off the curb, with his head buried in his cell phone. The driver of the car immediately behind the stopping car was looking at his own phone at the time and crashed into the first car. Metal parts went flying, and one piece whizzed right past my face. Fortunately, it missed me, but hit the guy standing next to me. For some reason, he grabbed onto his groin; not his face and he fell over forward onto the curb, knocking him out. I looked down and saw a puddle of blood forming around the man's head. My army training kicked in. I was recently discharged from the service as a medic, so I knew he needed immediate attention. I dropped to one knee, set my briefcase down, opened it, and grabbed the package of facial tissue I kept handy to use in trying to stop the bleeding. I didn't know the guy who was bleeding from Adam, but I couldn't stand by and gawk while some innocent dude bled out, no fault of his own. P.O.V.: Mel: Just my luck, I'd been in the right place, but at the wrong time, because there is certainly no right time to be involved in any accident in any way. I was a rush-hour pedestrian waiting for the traffic light to change at the corner of the block where I worked, when one car back- ended another. The first car was about to turn right at the corner, but stopped suddenly to avoid hitting someone who had stepped off the curb against the light. The second car must not have realized the first car was stopping, as it ran right into it. I was on my way to the parking garage, to retrieve my car and head home for a nice long weekend after a hectic week at the office. Instead, I got hit in the face with a piece of metal trim off flying off of the first car. What surprised me at the time was that I felt the metal hit me in the nose, causing me to see stars and become semi-conscious, and then another hit me in the right thigh. Both wounds must have started to bleed heavily, because I was lying on the ground with another pedestrian hovering over me exclaiming, "Can someone call an ambulance. This guy has multiple cuts bleeding pretty badly. I can't keep my hands on the wounds and place the call on my cell phone, too!" Someone else placed my briefcase under my head. A small crowd started to form. I felt groggy, partly from the nose wound and partly from hitting my forehead during my fall. This I surmised while I was lying face down on the sidewalk. I felt rather than saw someone turn me over, loosen my belt and lower the zipper on my fly. The next thing I heard someone say as the pain emanating in my face was getting worse was, "Oh, my, his entire groin is red as a beet. That must be a terrible cut he has down there! Are you sure you've stopped the bleeding?" The guy hovering over me with one hand on my thigh, and the other with a finger firmly over the puncture wound on my nose, asked everyone around us to "Please folks, give him some breathing room. Has someone called for an ambulance yet?" he asked. He then leaned over me and told me to relax. I heard him quickly zip up my pants and whisper, "No one else noticed, but me." OMG! The guy had seen my underwear! I heard someone saying it was red, but it wasn't. It was shiny silver in color and it only covered the bare necessities. The waistband was a mere cord, enough to hold the silver cup over my genitals. I was mortified. Time passed and I felt cold. Then, I slipped into unconsciousness. P.O.V.: Don: "Where the hell is that ambulance? Did anybody put in that call for one?" Someone else said that he had, and then asked if he could be of any help, but said he didn't know what to do. "Ask everyone to please back off, and make room for the paramedics." The driver of the first car came out cursing the driver of the second car, as if that person had crashed into his car intentionally. The nosy crowd's interest shifted from the guy I was helping to the argument between the two drivers. The guy whose head was buried in his cell phone who caused the accident was nowhere to be seen. I recalled that at the moment of impact, he didn't even notice he caused an accident. I was pissed. The paramedic got out of his ambulance and spent the first five minutes interviewing the arguing drivers of the cars, totally ignoring the guy splayed out on the curb, in a growing puddle of blood. "Hey, medic, get over here, we got an unconscious, serious bleeder." He walked up with his hands on hips and asked me, "Medic? And, who are you to be giving orders?" "Someone who is responsible enough to know this guy will bleed out if his wounds aren't attended to stat! He needs suturing. Are you able to handle doing it? I'm not equipped or I would have at least arrested the bleeding. " The medic apologized when he saw all the blood. "Sorry, but I get a lot of gruff from bystanders, sometimes. Seems you have matters under control for the moment. I can't do any major artery suturing here out on the street, but if you move either of your hands away from his wounds, we may jeopardize his condition further before we make it to the hospital. We need to get him on a litter and into the ambulance. The E.R. is the best place for him to be sutured, if you don't mind assisting. You seem to know what you're doing." "I was an Army Medic. I'm recently discharged. Yeah, I can assist, if you request. I don't want to be held liable for the guy though, in any way." He talked while he and his ambulance driver got out the litter. "Sir, you may not realize it, but you became liable the moment you touched this guy, but that's not important right now. Right now we have to get him to the hospital. I'll show in my ledger that you arrested his bleeding before we arrived. You probably saved the guy's life, not that you get any recognition for it." "I didn't do it for recognition. The guy was bleeding badly. No one else was doing anything to stop his bleeding. It was simply common decency of me, and nothing more." In the ambulance, under way to the hospital, the paramedic said the guy had a concussion from his fall and put his neck into a brace. Then, and only then did he attend to the cut on the guy's nose, while I continued to hold my fingers over the wound on his thigh, the wound that was bleeding far worse. While the paramedic attended to the injured man's facial wound, I snuck the pair of scissors I saw handy with my free hand and cut his pants. Between the blood stains and the tear from when the piece of metal entered his thigh, they weren't worth trying to save. This time, I snipped the thin cord on his sexy looking pouch in two places on each side of the cup and carefully slipped it off, to inspect his family jewels for damage, totally unnoticed by the paramedic. I wish I hadn't. I wanted to avoid the guy being embarrassed by being caught in a sexy groin cup, and instead exposed his very elaborate penis piercing, what looked like a flower to me. I had seen severely injured genitals while in the service, so I didn't need or want to view another set, but what this guy had done to his package was uncanny! Yeah, it was his own business, but still, the odd appearance of his manhood startled me. His pants would hide his condition well enough, so I pocketed the fancy groin cover. I didn't want the paramedic to make fun of or put the injured guy to task for his personal underwear preferences. The paramedic gave me the impression that he might be homophobic, so I wanted to deprive him of professing his petty indignities on someone in his care. The staff at the hospital was highly professional, and attended to the injured man as soon as we arrived. The doctor who did the stitching shook my hand and thanked me. "I really don't think he'd have bled to death if you weren't on hand, but you have the benefit of the doubt on your side. He owes you a deep debt of gratitude, and I'll tell him so when he comes around." From his demeanor, I could tell he saw the man's genitals, but he made no comment to me about them. All he said was: "Would you be so kind as to leave your contact information with the security people at the entrance to the E.R?" That doctor was crafty as a fox. If the injured man in his care decided to sue me for some reason, he'd have the information he'd need to find me. Then again, I thought he could to track me down, if he really wanted to, anyway, so I gave the particulars to the security guards and left the hospital for home. Home, boring, dull, home, with nothing to do but watch television. The past few hours had been the most exciting adventure for me since my discharge. 2. P.O.V.: Mel. I woke with a terrific headache. Gradually, I regained my senses, and slowly opened my eyes to check my surroundings. There wasn't any doubt. I was in a hospital room. But, how did I get there, and why was I there? I hoped it wasn't for the same reason as my last one, when I recovered from a beating. I used the call button to summon a nurse. When she arrived, I asked, "Where am I ma'am, and how did I get here?" "You're at Golden Cross Hospital. You arrived three days ago with a serious bump on your head and some serious cuts and bruises," I reached my hand to my forehead. Sure enough, I had a generous knob the size of a goose egg. I also had a small bandage over my nose. "What happened?" She came to me, ignored my question and asked if I'd like to use the toilet. I said that I did. She told me to go right ahead, because I'd been catheterized "Don't worry, no one on our staff disturbed your little 'toy'. The attending doctor down in the E.R. did put a bandage over it while he patched up a deep slash on your right thigh, though. You were bleeding terribly from the main artery from a projectile that came off of an auto involved in a traffic accident at the corner where you were standing. You lost a lot of blood before you arrived at the hospital, so don't try to get out of bed until the doctor that's assigned to you confirms everything is okay for you to move around." "What do you mean: 'everything'? Oh yeah, now I remember. I was waiting for the light to change and heard a crash. Then, something hit me in the face and I blacked out. I don't recall anything after that, except when they were putting me into an ambulance. Someone was talking to me, but I wasn't able to understand him clearly. He said: no one had seen it, but him. Did he mean no one saw the accident happen, or my --- uh, odd uh, ---- condition." "By your 'condition', are you referring to your odd penis piercing? I suppose you'll have to ask the witness who assisted the paramedic about what he was referring to. We have his information: name and address, in case you want to offer him a reward for possibly saving your life." "I suppose I owe him something." "If not for his help, you might not have arrived here in time. You'd lost a lot of blood by the time you got here." "You keep saying that. How much is a lot?" "You received four pints in the E.R. that's close to all that an adult can lose without incurring permanent damage to the brain and vital organs. You were fortunate to have someone who knew about the danger of blood loss on hand at the time. I understand the man was a medic in the military, so he was well aware of the consequences of heavy blood loss." "I guess I might owe the guy my life, if I lost that much blood." "Well, I wouldn't go that far, but you owe him your sincere gratitude." Two weeks later, P.O.V. Don. I received a phone call at the office from a nurse at a hospital. The guy that I'd helped after a traffic incident a few weeks earlier was seeking me out to thank me personally, she claimed, but said that he was still in the hospital, unable to get around. I figured the guy might be going stir crazy, being laid up, unable to figure out what had happened to his fancy, silver groin cup. I agreed to stop by the hospital to tell him he didn't owe me anything except a promise to pass the favor along if he ever was in a similar situation as I. To not spill any beans unnecessarily to the nurse regarding my knowing about his penile "decoration" I merely told her I was interested in the state of his recovery progress. I'd be glad to stop by to see him on my way home from work, hopefully to cheer him up, at the same time, my way of nonchalantly inquiring if he was able to have visitors. She said he was. It was late in the afternoon by then, so I told my associate that I was leaving the office early to run a work related errand. It was gospel truth, as the guy I was going to visit was injured as I was leaving work. That made it sort of 'work related'. Once at the hospital, I had a bit of difficulty when I realized I didn't know the guy's name, which made the visitors desk's volunteer suspicious of me. How to explain? Was I to tell her how I knew the patient? Would it matter to a hospital volunteer? Exasperated, I told the uninterested person on duty that I only encountered the guy I was looking for at an auto accident two weeks earlier and kept him from bleeding out. "That's why I don't know the guy's name, miss. I only know that a nurse called me today, telling me the guy wanted to thank me personally. "Oh, you must mean our 'flower child'. Let's see ---. Yes, that's Mel Evans up in three - oh-four, west. He caused quite a stir in the E.R. You may want to keep that info about his floral arrangement under your hat when you see him. He doesn't know everyone got a big kick out of his pre- dick-ament." I held back my temper. "Yeah, that must be him. Came in with injuries from an auto accident, right?" "I still have to have security check out your identity to see if the patient visit is warranted, and aggregable to the patient, since you're not a direct relative. Let me do that for you now, sir," I guess the look I gave her about the snide remark she made suddenly made me formally a "sir" in her feeble mind. Half an hour later, I was escorted up to Mel Evan's room by an orderly, who didn't say more than two words to me. I wondered what he was thinking, if he considered me a friend of a sex deviate. I could care less, what he thought of me or Mr. Evans. Maybe I was overreacting, but it bothered me. It upset me that people were so callous about another human being they didn't even know. What business was it of theirs if he sported a fancy penis decoration? The orderly turned me over to a nurse, who then escorted me to Mr. Evans' room. "Hi! My name is Don," was all I could think of to say upon entering. "Mel," he replied. We shook hands and he offered me a seat on a chair. The nurse turned and walked out without a word. When she was supposedly out of range, he motioned with his eyes toward the door. I took the hint, got up and walked to the door where the nurse was standing, listening to what we may have had to say to one another. I asked her if I could use the bathroom in his room, or did I need to use a restroom provided for visitors. She merely walked away in a huff. Back in the room, he thanked me profusely for saving his life. I told him it was no big deal for someone with a bit of medical experience. "Nonetheless, if you weren't there at the time, who knows what, might have happened? Most people don't know enough or care enough to get involved." "That may be, but I only acted instinctively, from past experience, to stop the bleeding." "It's a good thing you did. I had lost over four pints of blood on the way to the hospital according to that nosy nurse you just pinned for listening in." "More correctly: you lost most of it before the paramedics arrived. They are the people you should be thanking. They wasted no time getting you to the E. R., where they sutured your wounds properly and arrested the blood loss." "They probably took a few embarrassing cell phone pictures, and had a good laugh over what they all had seen. It now prompts me to ask: why didn't you laugh when you saw it. I know that you saw it. You told me so at the time, as I recall. I was delirious, but I distinctly heard you say that no one else around us had seen it. Oh, did you cut away my silver jock cup?" "Yeah, do you want it back? I still have it. I took it off because it made you seem gay. I didn't know about your fancy sunburst until after I took off the cod piece. If I had known, it might have made a difference. I don't know." "Well, the doctor who attended to me in the E.R., a right guy, put a bandage over my daisy, but it had already been seen by a number of other people, so the talk about it had started. Someone took pictures of it somewhere along the line, and I heard snickering about it behind my back, ever since I was transferred to a regular room. I guess the incessant taunting will never end." "Not to interrupt, but if the taunting bothers you, why not get it removed?" "It would require major surgery, which I already had enough of, thank you." "Oh, I'm sorry, Of course, I wasn't aware it was a result of prior surgery." "It's a long, sordid story that took years to mature." The nurse came into the room, interrupting our conversation, and announced that it was meal time. I was asked to leave and return in an hour and a half if I cared to, so as to allow her patients time to digest their food properly. I felt that I had overstayed the visit as it was, and told the guy to give me a call if he needed anything. I really didn't know him, so I didn't think he'd ever call. As I was leaving, he asked if he could call me after he got out of the hospital. He said he wanted to buy me a drink or two for my kindness toward him. He sounded sincere. I told him I'd be glad to tip a few with him. After I left, I thought about it. He was a nice enough guy, kind of nerdy, but innocent enough. I had no idea why he was sporting a medallion around his penis, but must be an interesting story if what he told me about its requiring major surgery to remove it. Then again, if we ever met again, maybe its derivation wouldn't come up in a conversation. I know I wouldn't discuss it if my cock looked like a flower in bloom. If I recalled correctly, the blossom didn't protrude any more than one inch from his body. Odd! A week later, I got a phone call at the office from Mel Evans. He had been released from the hospital and wanted me to join him to paint the town red to celebrate. I tried to beg off at first, but he was insistent, in a polite way, so I agreed to meet him that Friday at a local pub near the office, but to have no more than a few, as I would still have to drive home. Of course, a few draft beers led to a few more, and he was talking freely to me as if we were old chums. I had nothing better to do, so as long as he was buying, I was drinking. I learned that he arrived in town from Indianapolis a while back and didn't know many people in town other than the few in his office where he put together ads for holiday catalogs. An art major, he was only out of school a few years, which accounted for his youthful looks. He was of legal drinking age according to his driver's license, but couldn't have been to college, so I asked. "Ever been to college or in the service?" "I can't serve in the military. I have a deferment." I nodded. Why? I wondered silently. "The army thought I am unfit, because I lost my gonads, but it's not true. Damn it, no matter what I tell people, they immediately think I'm a loser. Want to hear about it? Want to hear the gory details?" His voice was getting higher and the volume went up as well, causing a minor stir in the pub. "This isn't the time, or the place, Mel. If you want, you can tell me about it when you're sober. It's time we call it a night. At the moment, I'm trying to keep my eyes open, and I'm not having much luck," I wasn't worried about getting into a fight because of him, though I avoid fighting if possible. I was too drunk to drive, and though didn't really want to call it a night yet, I knew I'd better book a room at a motel for the night rather than try to drive home. "Don, please let me tell you what happened now. I won't want to discuss it when I'm sober because I won't have the courage to talk about it, then." "Come on now, how bad can it be, Mel? Look, if you're gay, don't sweat it. Your being gay doesn't bother me one bit. I witnessed guys with all sorts of sexual deviances while I was a medic in the service." "Did you ever see anybody or hear of anybody being forced to be gay?" "No, not personally, first hand, but I saw the aftermath of a few guys who had been beaten to a pulp for being gay. It isn't pretty. Look, let's blow this joint and get some coffee. I'm going crash soon. I'm in no condition to drive home, and I don't want to get a D.U.I. I need to book a room for the night." "I'm in no condition to drive either, but I live within walking distance from here, so I won't have much trouble getting home, unless I get mugged. You can crash at my pad, if you can trust me to keep my hands off of you." "Hah! I don't have to worry about that. I could break you in two, the first moment you try to get funny with me. Got some coffee at your place?" "I have plenty of it. I have sweet rolls too, and sausage and eggs, if you're interested. Personally, I prefer to have breakfast before retiring for the night, and sleep in all morning long. Sometimes I don't get up until after noon." He was drunk, yet some of his comments made perfectly logical sense, and he sounded level headed, seemed harmless, and he said that he was willing to cook up a batch of sausage and eggs, if I crashed at his place. "How far is it to your place?" I asked. "About six blocks." "We'll take a cab!" 3. 1:00 a.m. at Mel's apartment: Mel's P.O.V. Don looked very drunk and was nearly half asleep when we arrived. I was still drunk too. I had enough liquid courage in me to tell Don my sad story. "As I was saying, I dated the same girl all through high school. We two were inseparable, but she was from a religious family, and she wouldn't let me go any further than a little kissing with tongue and breast massage and later on, some genital touching, but that's it. By the time we got out of high school, I was horny as a toad. "One evening in her parent's basement we were watching television on the couch, making out. I wanted her to know how hot she got me, so I unzipped my fly and forced her hand into my pants to touch my manhood directly. She resisted at first, but then she relented. Just as I had her head over the top of my stiff as can be boner, her dad walked in on us unheard and caught us. "He went absolutely berserk, dragging me off of her and kicking me right in the groin over and over, not caring a bit that I was the guy that his daughter loved deeply and wanted to marry. To him, I was a perverted monster taking undue advantage of his sweet young and innocent child. "I ended up in a hospital with my gonads crushed beyond saving, or so they said. Of course, I was surgically neutered that night as was demanded by my girlfriend's father. I had implants imbedded into my butt to inhibit what was left of my sexual prowess. Her dad swore to the doctors that he'd kill me if they hadn't castrated me. He wanted proof I'd never be able to molest more innocent "lambs". I spent the next month in the hospital recovering from my castration and other crushed and broken bones he inflicted on me. It took me months of physical therapy before I could hold a pencil in my hand to write. "Of course, my parents sued him for assault and battery with intent to kill, but he got off with probation and a humongous bill from the hospital. I spent a year of my life in abject fear of reprisals. My parents then disowned me for embarrassing the entire family. We live in a small town where everyone in the town knows everyone. I was then labeled an unholy disgrace by the local holy rollers. To avoid further indignities, I moved here to Chicago. "I'll make a long story shorter. About a year later, I woke up one fine morning naked, huddled in a dumpster on some big construction site. The skin of my empty scrotum and tiny head of my penis were pulled through the center of a pink metallic blossom that rests against the base of my torso. Several piercings along an inch thick ring beneath the blossom retain my shrunken cock within my body cavity, so I can never penetrate a woman's vagina with what little of it is protruding a mere half inch. Due to my over eagerness as a youth, I will never know what normal sex is like. "Can you still achieve any sexual release at all?" "Oh, I still ejaculate, sort of, if it is stimulated it but nothing but a clear lube comes out. It feels good, but it's a far cry from what I felt when I was able to masturbate normally. Because I no longer produce any male hormones, I get a better thrill out of playing with my nipples and imagining my cock is a clit. Sometimes I wish they had finished the job on me and turned me into a real woman. At least, I'd be able to achieve sexual satisfaction in some manner." I considered what he had just admitted and asked, "Would you really want to have sex as a woman with men instead of remaining a male? Take it for what it's worth, but it sounds incredibly odd. I would never want to be ---" "I'd already been castrated for well over a year, Don. I cannot respond as a normal man should any more, so I might as well have my penis inverted so I'd be able to enjoy sex in some manner, even if it is as a woman. I know it sounds as if I'm abandoning my manhood, but what choice do I have? "If you must know, when I woke up in that dumpster, I was wearing a short nylon nightgown and was cold as hell. My clothes were gone, and my new decorations were on full display with a dozen or so guys crowding around, asking me questions, once they took off my blindfold. I was scared as hell! They said I looked like a willing pansy to them. They wanted me to perform the same oral sex act on them that I once expected my girlfriend to perform on me, just a little over a year earlier. Of course, I refused! "These guys had a tied up, blindfolded sissy at their disposal and they took full advantage the opportunity. After I had refused, they told me they'd knock out all my teeth and then use me whatever way they wanted, anyway. I had my hands still bound behind my back, in a nightgown, humiliated, with a damn daisy around my shrunken stub being slapped around by a dozen or so roughs. What could I do? I realized I had no negotiating advantage to talk my way out of what they wanted! I didn't want to spend another month or so in a hospital recuperating, being laughed at by a bunch of simpleton nurses." "If it will make you feel any better, Mel. I might as well admit that if I found myself in your position. I probably would have done the same thing you did. There's no sense taking a chance that you'd get your neck broken or teeth knocked out over something women are asked to do all the time." "I was pushed down to my knees by part of the group, with my hands still tied behind my back and was told that I'd better be cooperative or else. I had no choice. I cooperated. I'm not saying that it was the right or wrong thing to do, but I did what I felt I had to do to survive my immediate peril." "You blew all of them? How many were there?" "They used their numbers and brute force to convince me. I didn't have a prayer of a chance against a dozen or so of them. I survived. I just closed my eyes and my mind to what was happening. There wasn't anything I could do to prevent it. After the third guy used my mouth to get off, it didn't seem as vulgar and degrading as it had been at the beginning. By the fifth guy, I was willingly trying to get the guy off fast as I could. I wanted my sordid ordeal over and done with, hoping they'd let me free in gratitude. Instead, a pair of them double teamed me. Believe me! You never want a raging bull do that to you. They both pushed in at the same time, skewering me between them! You can't imagine how painful the initial onslaught was. I walked funny for days afterwards." "Did they damage your anus physically in the process, Mel?" "Why? Are you a doctor or something?" "I was a medic, remember?" Oh, yeah that's right, you told me. No, they used something one guy called gorilla grease and they all wore condoms. I guess they didn't want to take a chance of becoming infected. Grease or no grease, my butt hurt like hell, and I wanted to die before they had their fill of forcing me to service them. " "Do you think your former girlfriend's dad put those guys up to turning you out? I doubt if anyone else is responsible for your odd penile disfiguration, but who set them wise to you being there? Who else do you suppose would want to be so cruel towards you? Anyone else you can think of? If not, you should get the police involved to have him taken to task for his crime." "I did that once, if you recall, and it backfired. The legal fees for his lawyers, and mine, and the hospital bills forced him to remortgage all of his property and not be able to send his darling daughter away to college as he'd planned. He swore he'd get me for it, and he did. Even after I left town in a hurry, he tracked me down here in Chicago and got me so good I want to scream." "What's done is done. If he feels you got your comeuppance, he may take his leave and leave you alone from now on." "I doubt it! I've relocated twice since my incident at the dumpster. The first time was right afterwards. I used a different name and false I.D.'s. I was tracked down anyway. I got home one evening and found a note under my door asking me if I thought I was beyond reach. He was mocking me! "It also asked if I thought I'd ever be able to use my useless manhood again, now that it was secured for good. The note had an X-ray printout attached to it showing finely wound wires behind the bloom of my adornment securing it to the skin of my torso, scrotal sac and more interlaced wires wound thru my prostate gland. If I try to have the blossom extricated, it said I'd lose the ability to control my bladder in the process, and I'd be incontinent and have to be diapered for the rest of my life. "After I got that note, I changed jobs and moved again." "Well, it seems he now has you on the run, which is what he wants. Did you seek a professional medical opinion about his claim about the decorative device not being removable? The claim seems very unlikely to me." "I'm not going to risk finding out. I'm sure X-rays or a cat scan I have taken will enable him to track me down again. I don't want him to find me, not ever. In fact, I'm considering moving as far away from here as I can." "That's probably what a normal person would do. He'll expect that. Why don't you hide where he'd least expect: in plain view, right under his nose?" "It's too risky! When that piece of metal hit me in the face, my first thought was that he found me again. I thought I'd been shot. A lot of people at the hospital found out about my unusual adornment, and I'm sure that it's only a matter of time before he tracks me down again to torment me further." "To avoid a barking hound, you have to start thinking like a fox. If he has a private detective looking for you, it's surely only a matter of time before he finds you. You're running scared instead of smart. Slow down and think of all the potential options at your disposal. He wants to totally emasculate you. Beat him to the punch and you will thereby beat him at his own game!" "How can I do that? Emasculate him, first?" "No, Mel! Are you out for vengeance?" "No way, I just want him and two his sons to leave me alone. I don't have any way to fight them off. I just want to be left alone!" "He has sons?" "Yes, two, both are in their twenties. I was a year behind one in school. The other is two years older. Both are carpenters, like their overbearing father" "Ah, he has sons. That makes him vulnerable, my friend, with an eye for an eye. You have an ace card to play, if you have the nerve to play it." "Me? I'm scared shitless, Don. What are you talking about? You lost me!" "I'm sobering up and thinking straight, again. His sons are his future, as is his daughter, but his sons are, more so. Deprive him of their ability to pass on his genes, and you'll defeat him, mean, cold and simple. Retribution is a dish best served deliberately cold, simple, and calculated. " "I don't want to mess with him. I want him out of my hair, once and for all!" "Do as I suggest and you'll be rid of him for good. Start making breakfast. I'm getting hungry. If you don't mind, I'll have a chop steak if you have one, two eggs, over well with hash browns on the side, done well." 4. P.O.V Don: Later on that Saturday morning in June, after sunrise. Mel didn't seem able to manage matters well on his own. He obviously needed guidance. Maybe because he's young, or maybe he simply doesn't have the gumption. If I had lost my family jewels due to a bad beating by a belligerent parent of a girlfriend, it might deter my self- determination, too. In a way, I sort of feel it'd be decent of me to lift the guy's spirits a little by playing a big brother to him a while. He desperately needs a stronger will to guide him. His family turned their backs on him when he needed them most. I thought it over the night before while still half drunk, while he was feeding me a hearty breakfast of burger and eggs and cowboy potatoes, my favorite. If he'd let me, I decided to help in any way I can, including making some suggestions about how to avoid further confrontation from his tormentor. "Mel, I was wondering," --- "Oh, wondering about what?" he blurted, nervous as hell. "Whoa, take it easy and let me speak! Last night you said that you wish your personal persecutor finished the job and turned you into a woman instead of a eunuch, so you could at least enjoy having sex in some way, even if it had to be as a woman. Were you serious about doing that?" "I don't know. I might have been. I'm ruined for life as a man. Even if the device can be removed, I can't get it up anymore. Why do you ask?" "Well, last night, I suggested you could hide from your tormentor in plain view if you'll become an ersatz woman, not a real one but a lookalike. In a way, it would coincide with your views on preferring to be able to have sex in some manner, even if it is as a woman, from now on." "I didn't mean that literally. Look at me! Do I look anything like a woman?" "No, but most of the difference between women and men is superficial. Men have certain secondary characteristics that differ from women, it's true, but overall, it couldn't be hard for a plastic surgeon to alter your facial features enough for you to pass as a woman. What else you could have done would be up to you. You could even opt for true sexual reassignment, if you want." "I could buy The Chrysler Building in New York, too, if I had the money, which I don't. It would cost a small fortune for a plastic surgeon to give me a decent nose job alone." "You still have a dark scar on your nose from that auto accident. If you sue the owner of the car for the disfigurement of your face, you may find that his insurance carrier will gladly offer to pay for a nose job, at least. It wouldn't hurt to find out. Would it? Some lawyers love to defend open and shut cases. They make a lot of money off of other peoples' misfortune. Did you sign any releases when the hospital let you go?" "Yeah, some papers the hospital required, you know, signing over rights to collect from my insurance company from work. I still might be in trouble over that, because I wasn't working in my present job very long, so they are not happy about my submitting a claim this soon after being hired, Don." "Oh, do the people at work know about your fancy pansy, Mel?" "It's really a daisy, and not a pansy, Don. No, they don't. The physical I had to take to get the job was barely cursory. The doctor saw it, shook his head and said 'Kids!' He didn't even write anything down about my having it." "Daisy or pansy, you said it can't be removed. What makes you so sure? It must be difficult to keep clean, if you can't remove it to clean under it." "I found a note in the pocket of my pants that I recovered from a far corner of the dumpster, after my foray with the group of gentlemen who found me in a nightgown, newly decorated. It explained what I would have to do. "The note said I'd never be able to use my restrained cock again on another innocent lamb. It had a sample of thin gold colored wire in an envelope. The wire was encased in a very thin plastic sleeve. When I slid the plastic sleeve off of the wire, a row of tiny spikes appeared along the length of it facing in either direction. The note suggested I not try to remove the shield, because the same kind of thin wires attached the blossom to my body and was also wound all around my prostate gland. It would shred all my muscles in my torso and prostate gland in the process to shreds, so I'd have no control over my urinary function and have to wear diapers for the rest of my life." "And, you believe it?" "I still have the piece of wire, if you'd like to examine it. The barbs along the length of it only protrude after the plastic covering is removed, like the barbs that are on fish hooks, but these point in either direction. It won't matter which way the wire is pulled! I tried to pull on my daisy, and it bled for a long time afterwards. I'm sure not going to try to remove the damned thing ever again and chance getting a serious infection! Believe me!" "I believe you, Mel, but I have to ask you. It must be very uncomfortable and hard to keep clean. How do you cleanse it?" "Very carefully, trust me, Don! I use a soapy loofa sponge and lots of warm, flowing water when I shower every morning. If I move too quickly, I feel it piercing my groin muscle tissue and I stop. Then, I have to wear cotton ball padding for a few days, like women do and I spray my entire groin area with an antiseptic, astringent cleansing solution which stings like hell! " "The bastard thought of everything to make your life miserable. Didn't he?" "I'd do anything if it could be removed, but where would I go? Who would I see to find out if it can be removed? I'm afraid to show it to anyone, even at the hospital the staff in the E.R. made fun of me for having it, Don." "Yeah, but they didn't know squat about the barbed wires laced all through your groin muscles and prostate to keep it in place. I doubt if they'd be so anxious to make fun of you if they knew. You should have had the E.R. staff take an X-ray to find out how much of that wire was used, and if there's a way to get the thing removed that doesn't involve major surgery." "You were there. Why didn't you tell them? As you may recall, they were a bit preoccupied at the time with other issues. I was spurting blood all over!" "If that chunk of shrapnel off the car had hit your groin instead of your hip, you'd be pushing up daisies now, instead of wearing one. Sooner or later, you must get that gadget removed, for your health and safety, Mel!" "I know, but I don't have two spare nickels to rub together at the moment, and every dime I make at work goes to pay the rent and buy groceries." "Well, consider this: someone has intruded on your life to make it miserable. If you'll let me, I'm willing to right that wrong. Do you trust me, Mel?" "Trust you? I already owe you my life! Why wouldn't I trust you?" "Good, here's what I propose: Stop going to work. Just disappear. Pack up everything valuable you own in a single suitcase, and leave everything else behind, as if you're leaving town. Go to Union Station and book a one-way ticket with your credit card on the California Zephyr to San Francisco, but not until just before the train is about to leave Chicago." "Why on my credit card?" "I'll explain why in a sec. When you get to Naperville, Illinois, get off of the train. Conductors check the tickets of people who are on the train, but not of the people who got off. As far as anyone knows you could have gotten off anywhere along the route to California. Take public transportation, and not a taxi, to the campus of Central University. Use only cash, small bills. Taxi fares can be easily traced, if you use a credit card. That's why I want you to buy your train ticket to San Francisco with a credit card, so it can be traced. Go to the Student Union at the college. I'll be waiting for you there." "Then what do we do?" "I'll let you know when you need to know, not before. I have to make some arrangements, and I'm not sure about the details as of yet, but you are going to seem to disappear for some time to make it difficult for your tormentor to find you. We took a chance by my meeting for a few drinks last night. We'll want to know if anyone is tracking me now, before we make the next move. "Do you know the difference between transgendered and transvestite, Mel?" "One has the transformation surgery, the other one doesn't." "Wrong; a transsexual applies to intentionally change gender someday, and a transvestite merely wears the clothes of the opposite gender. A transsexual man lives a year as a woman before a shrink will approve him for surgery. "A year, but that's --- I don't want to have to hide for that long?" "You told me you wish they'd have finished the job and made you into a real woman. How serious were you? You'll need to dress up as a woman for a full year for any doctor in the states to agree to change you to a woman. If your tormentor persists and is still out to get you, and you'll be dressed as a woman in the meantime, you'll have a better chance of escaping detection. If he doesn't buy the ruse, he may grant you your wish, and force you to become a woman ---physically, which is a very painful, lengthy process. You'll then be a woman for the rest of your life whether you want to or not. Half the population of the world is comprised of women, so being one can't be too bad, but it's a painful process for a man to endure to make the change. "Another thing, you may not get paid as well for doing the same work as a man doing the same work, but you'll get all the free sex you'll ever want just for the asking. I know, I know, it sounds sick, and of course, I'm just joking, Mel. To me, the pain involved seems much too high of a price to pay." "Well, I'm not laughing. You might as well know. I said what I said after the run-in that I had with the construction workers, because of how I feel about being forced to service other men. I still have nightmares over what they had forced me to do, and in some of those nightmares, I want them to abuse me, as if I deserve to be abused, because I'm a pervert like my girlfriend's dad accused me of being. There, I said it. I have to be honest with you Don. At times, what those construction workers did with me somehow makes me feel like I must be inherently gay because, damn it, I liked being forced to do it." "I told you it wouldn't bother me if you are gay. I don't impose my sexual preferences on anyone, Mel. After what's been done to you, I can understand how you must feel. It's not your fault you can't function as a man any more, but I can't imagine what it must be like to not want to have carnal sex with a woman. I'd rather be dead. In fact I might even want to consider suicide" "I never said that I don't want to, at times. Sometimes I'm so horny; I want to have sex with women, Don. I just can't do anything about it, not with this daisy on my cock. I can't get a hard on any more." "I don't want to seem forward, Mel, but if you had the chance, what would you do with a willing woman, sexually I mean?" "What would I do? I'll tell you what! I'd eat her out, of course, and I'd try to give her the best damn orgasm of her life, so she'd never forget me! That's what I'd do! Boy, if I ever find one that won't laugh at me, because I have a daisy for a cock, I'd do my best to make her the happiest woman alive." "I'm with you on that score, pal. Even if you have to make love to a woman like a lesbian, you'll still be able to get lucky, Mel! Think about it!" "I think about it all the time. Maybe you're right. Maybe I ought to become a setter instead of a pointer. At least I'd be able to flaunt my sex and act like a harlot if I want. That's something guys can't get away with in this lopsided world of ours. As men, women may scorn us for being forward, but as other women, we'd have just as good a chance of getting off as any other woman with a talented tongue, because we won't be considered a threat to a woman, since one woman can't get another one pregnant with her tongue." "I wish you wouldn't use the plural 'we' when you consider your options. Still, the mere thought of being able to sweet talk a chick with the promise of endless orgasms blows my mind away, Mel! If you decide to venture to the other side of the gender barrier, you'll have a distinctive advantage over the rest of us guys with some women." I no sooner said 'blows my mind away' I realized Mel was looking down at my lap. Before I could stand up to prevent being trapped on the chair, he got up, walked around the table, and sat down on the stiff boner I had from our talking loosely about hedonistic sex, and he noticed it right away. I had to put him off in a hurry. "Now, don't get the wrong idea, Mel. I'm not prejudiced against people who ascribe to alternative lifestyles, but when I want casual sex, I scout out a woman, not another man. I just want you to know that, up front. Okay? So, let's remain casual friends. Shall we? " "How womanly does someone have to be for you to find her attractive, Don? Being with you right now, I feel real horny, right now. Besides, you're the one who's been talking about having sex so much, this morning. If you're uncomfortable, don't do a thing. Let me do it. The best thing for you to do for me is to hold me in your arms to let me show how much I appreciate the help you're willing to provide me. Have you ever been to a circle jerk? Let me handle your obvious excitement for you. Just diddle with my nipples a little. That's what I do for relief whenever I feel horny these days." He hesitatingly placed his trembling fingers over my still clothed stiff cock and moaned. "Oh, it feels so big, and it's thick, too! It must be at least eight inches long! Aren't you the least bit inquisitive about what it would be like to have another man bringing you off?" "That's quite enough!" I said, loud enough to make my position clear. "Get off of me, Mel, get up right now!" He did, so I resumed speaking to him in a normal voice. "I already explained to you that I'm not gay, nor do I intend to explore the lifestyle with anyone. Maybe if you'll take my advice and try to dress as a woman and appear to act like a woman, I might consider letting you stay with me at my place for a while. You'd have to look like a woman to keep my female neighbors from wondering about my sexual leanings. You'll be safe staying incognito until I can find out if that girlfriend's irate father is still out for your hide. Okay?" P.O.V.: Mel, later that same Saturday afternoon. After Don left to do whatever he was going to do, I started to seriously think about what he proposed. I didn't want to impose on him for help, but if Don is right, the raving maniac after me isn't going to be satisfied until I'm either dead or disfigured for life, which could be far worse. It's unlikely he'd be satisfied with my becoming a woman. That wouldn't accomplish his intent to punish me for attempting to violate his daughter's celibacy. Was Don right about my hiding in plain sight as a woman? Would I be better off posing as a woman to avoid a confrontation by the angry beast gnawing at my heels? It might be worth a try. I'd be able to sleep a lot better without wondering if I was going to wake up in another dumpster somewhere, to be molested by another group of horny, unsavory characters. My last encounter with men, they weren't choosy. All they wanted was sexual relief. If I was still being pursued, I wondered what the next pack of wolves would expect from me. I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't stop worrying! Then, I thought about Don's motives. Why was he so willing to volunteer to be my guardian angel? Could he have been sent by my tormentor to lull me into trusting him, only to be bamboozled by him? That was a possibility, but it seemed unlikely. Maybe, I was just a convenient way for him to exercise his bravado; and assuage his macho quest for adventure and excitement. Some guys get off on stuff like that. Not me, I get off on avoiding trouble as much as possible. You'd never get me to volunteer to help someone in dire distress. Chicken Little, that's me! I avoid trouble at all costs! 5. Early on the following Tuesday morning: P.O.V. Mel. Following Don's advice, I arrived at Union Station with only one suitcase containing my personal possessions. I left most of my male clothes behind in my apartment. I only took two changes of clothes, a warm jacket and a spare pair of shoes. I was travelling light! I purchased my one-way ticket to San Francisco with my credit card; damn, what a waste! Money was tight, but Don insisted I buy a ticket all the way out to the West Coast, even though I'd be getting off of the train at the first stop out of Chicago, where he was to meet me. The train ride was uneventful, though I felt as if someone was watching me. If someone was watching, my train trip would be a fool hearty one, because they assuredly would see me getting off the train and meeting Don. Well, if Don liked the cloak and dagger aspect of a staged train ride, so be it! I had already agreed to his crazy plan for me to hide in plain view disguised as a woman. I agreed to do it because I didn't have a better idea, and I was tired of tossing and turning night after night, waiting for the other shoe to drop. In Naperville, I boarded a free shuttle bus to the college campus and got off at the Student Union, as we had planned. Don was already waiting outside, so I wouldn't even have to go inside. When I approached him, he turned his back, feigned not knowing me, and quietly told me to enter the building, walk through it to the far side, leave by the far exit, and get into the back of a cargo van with the logo of a heating and air conditioning company on it that would be parked right outside the building's exit. I did as he instructed. As he said, the van was parked close to the building, so no one could have seen me enter it. Once I was inside, Don opened the driver's door, got in and he drove the van away, telling me to keep down in between all the tools and boxes of parts, so I couldn't be seen from outside of the van. He had gone through a lot of effort to make sure I wasn't seen with him, though we'd spent an entire evening together the prior Friday. Our first stop was at the side of a small motel close to an interstate highway. The only reason I knew it was an interstate, was the level of noise from the heavy traffic going by, down below street level, behind a thick hedge row. Don got out of the van first and instructed me to wait inside the van until he made sure the coast was clear. Less than a minute later, he told me to get out of the van and make a dash for the open motel room door, which I promptly did. He then tossed a bottle of lotion to me and told me to strip, spread the lotion over my entire body from the neck down and wait fifteen minutes. Reading the label on the squeeze body, I learned it was a depilatory cream. I looked at him questioningly. "Don't look so shocked. I want you to remove all of the hair from your entire body. It's the first of many steps you'll have to take in your transformation. Before the day is over, you probably won't be able to recognize yourself. Take your time and be thorough. You may find that you prefer a smooth, sleek, hairless body to a hairy one. I did it several times years back for swimming competition, and I have to admit that it gave me a woodie, every time. It feels real sexy." I didn't feel sexy smearing the stuff onto my body, and by the fifteen minute time period was over, I felt like my skin was on fire. The cooling, refreshing spray of the shower was a welcome relief. All of my body hair flushed down the drain along with the thick cream, as I used plenty of body wash to rid my skin of the irritating cream depilatory. Following the instructions on the bottle's label, I patted myself dry with the towel instead of rubbing my skin with one, like I usually did after taking a shower. Surprisingly, my skin tingled a bit, giving me goosebumps. I didn't get sexually excited, as Don suggested I might, hell, for months since I got castrated , I don't sexually excited! I don't respond at all. It just sits there, the head of it surrounded by the petals of my metallic pink daisy. I noticed that my pale skin felt soft and smooth, which was kind of nice. My nipples were protruding and pointing upwards a little, which also felt nice. Don knocked on the bathroom door, startling me a bit. "It's been awful quiet in there, Mel. Is anything wrong?" "No, I'll be out in a second." He opened the door, reached in with a handful and said, "Better put these on before I come in," They were women's panties and a silky pullover shirt that looked more like a slip than a shirt. "You might as well get used to wearing clothes meant for women, from the skin out, right off the bat, so it will seem normal for you sooner." I put on the panties and noticed how my decorative daisy showed through the thin, nylon fabric. "These panties aren't much good. You can see right through them." I pulled the slip over my head and noticed how my nipples showed clearly through the thin layer of cloth. "Everything shows, Don." "Get used to it! Women flaunt their sexuality. Here, let me help you with this." He placed a tight nylon skull cap, and then a short wig on my head. "Yeah, it'll have to do for now. Our next stop isn't very far from here." I looked into the mirror on the wall over the sink and saw that he'd placed a short platinum blonde wig over my own hair that hugged the sides of my head tightly. With my facial hair showing, I still looked like a man in a wig. "Did you bring your Dobb kit with you, your shaving kit?" "Yes, of course I did," I told him. "Good. Shave! Shave real close, then apply a layer of this facial beard cover on your face where you shaved. I hope I chose the right shade, close to your natural skin tone. That's something else you're going to have to get used to doing: applying makeup to your face every day, like women do." "Seems to me like a lot of bother that won't amount to anything, since I'm not trim and as curvy as a woman is. This insane idea of yours is ludicrous, Don. I'm certainly not shapely enough to fool anyone. Why don't we give up on it now and I'll get back on the train in Naperville and continue on to California like I had planned to do in the first place?" "Because you'll be tracked down and humiliated further, that's why. This is only step one. Once you are comfortable in your new role, we have to find this idiot and give him a real good reason to stop tormenting you. Maybe if one of his sons gets abducted and is forced to wear a daisy around his cock for a while, he'll reconsider his options. We'll take an eye for an eye, and he'll have to back off or suffer the consequences." "I'm not sure seeking revenge is a good idea, Don. This daisy I'm wearing is proof enough for me. It could backfire like my charging him with assault and battery did. It didn't stop him from seeking retribution after I had won my case in court." "That's because you publicly shamed him in front of all of his friends and associates by taking him to court. You should have hit him where it hurts. That's what he did to you to seek revenge. You fight fire with fire, not with some legal venue that can be overcome in time. Sure, taking him to court may have cost him a ton of money, and embarrassment but money can be replaced, and the public soon forgets. What he's done to you for trying to get fresh with his daughter can't be undone. He's stolen your ability to procreate and pass on your blood line. He stole that from your parents and all of your grandparents, as well." "Well, he's robbed me of that, that's for sure, but I have brothers who have and are passing on their genes to the next generation. I already have three nephews. They're still toddlers, but they're all sharp as a tack and they're handsome as hell, to boot." "All the more reason you should make it plain to all that you are not to be trifled with, Mel." "If he ever tried to mess with those kids; that would really piss me off!" "You have to think of their future, Mel. Don't get mad, get even." "He wouldn't dare. They're innocent kids!" "What were you guilty of, Mel? A little tickle and kiss? Did your behavior warrant what he did to you, and may continue to do?" "We're not sure if he even wants to do anything else to me, Don." "Sure, that's why you're awake all night, night after night worrying, right?" "You have a point there, but my sleeplessness might be all in my mind." "It's anguish, none the less, festering like a wound that won't heal. If he's got someone keeping tabs on you, he knows you've been pacing the floor every night and is reveling in delight over it. Now that you've disappeared, we'll see to what extremes he will use to track you down. You'll soon find out if it's all in your head or if your fears are warranted, Mel." "But is this elaborate disguise really necessary?" "Maybe it is, and maybe it's not. In the meantime, I think we'll both sleep sounder. Don't you? Do you have a problem with the loss of a little body hair? Maybe it's wearing women's clothes. Is that what is bothering you? It's not a very steep price to pay for not having to look over your shoulder every time you turn a corner. " "I just don't think I can get away with posing as a woman. I'm clumsy as an ox and don't look anything like a woman." "We'll see. Our next step is at a salon where guys go to learn how to emulate women. It's not going to be simple or easy. They don't use magic wands, but you'd swear they can perform miracles with a hair brush and comb, and a bit of makeup, from what I've heard. We have an appointment this afternoon. After they teach you a few tricks of the trade, maybe you'll gain new insight to your chances of getting away with posing as a woman. Who knows?" Don smiled when he said that, his, casual, reassuring smile, surely, but I was still unconvinced. I wanted to believe him, but it didn't seem likely to me "If I don't agree with you, can we call off this monkey business and think up some other way to get my former girlfriend's father off my back?" "It'll take some effort and concentration to pull this off, Mel. If this bastard is persistent and he is hell bent on tracking you down, sooner or later, he's going to find you. When he does, hopefully, he'll be so shocked when he's sees you, he won't know what to do next, and may reconsider his options, knowing you might become the pursuer rather than the pursued." "What would make him think that?" "It will cost a good deal of money to transform you sufficiently to appear as a lovely looking woman. He knows you're strapped for cash. When he sees you as a beautiful woman, he'll know you have financial backing. It'll make him stop in his tracks and think. He'll realize you may have sufficient means to extract retribution. Fear is a tremendous deterrent if deployed properly. It keeps you up all night, fretting, constantly wondering what he'll do to you next, and when, which is his game, the game we'll teach him two can play." "All I want is for him to stop persecuting me. I keep telling you that I'm not out for revenge, Don." "That's the best part! We don't have to do anything to him. All we have to do is make him realize that we can. We want him to back off. He will, out of fear, the same kind of fear he uses against you. If he doesn't back off, then we'll reconsider our options. He'll eventually realize his antics aren't worth the effort and cost involved, and he will cease to be a problem." "But, what will become of me, in the meantime? I can't sponge off of your good graces forever. Even if you'd let me, I wouldn't. I have my own pride, you know. I wish I had money! If I did, I wouldn't need to - ---." "Let's just say some people need a cause to occupy their time to in order to survive. I've spent the better part of the last twenty years living off of the government. I've socked away a good part of my pay in solid investments, plus what I've inherited. I was fortunate enough to choose wealthy parents. With my army pension, I'll never have to work another day of my life. If it wasn't for you, I'd be deeply involved in some other good deed somewhere, so please don't deprive me of my passion for adventure. Okay?" I didn't know what to say to him in response. I was without means to survive without his help, so I nodded in agreement, kept my mouth shut and decided to do whatever he told me to do. From one minute to the next, I didn't know what he'd come up with. It was like being surprised at every turn, and I liked it. He seemed to have clear plans but he kept me in the dark as to what they were, as if I'd screw things up if I knew, or would ask too many questions if I knew too much. From a duffle bag, he extracted a pair of slacks and a blouse, and a pair of woman's shoes. Surprisingly they were all the right sizes and fit me well. Either he was a great judge of peoples' sizes or his ability to guess was as uncanny as his ability to keep me in suspense. As soon as I was dressed up in my new clothes, he preceded me out the door, advised me that the coast was clear and had me quickly get back into the cargo van for our next leg of my journey into womanhood: a salon. The street signs said we were in Arlington Heights, that much I was able to determine. We pulled into a driveway and he parked the van behind a store that had a bi sign out in front" "Transformations". Once inside the store, he spoke with the proprietor and said he had made an appointment for me. She took one look and said, "Oh, dear, she's brand new. Isn't she"? Don confirmed her suspicions and asked her to do what she could do for me. I was pawned off on the woman's son and taken to an alcove where we had a lengthy conversation, while the young man compared different shades of cosmetics with my skin's color and the wig's hair color. "Do you have any other wigs?" I told him I didn't. "I suppose I should get at least one more, in a different color, as this one doesn't fit my personality very well. I prefer longer hair." "Oh, but it does. The short pixie style and platinum blonde color make you look mysterious. The guys are going to drool over you once I get through teaching you how to apply your makeup," I like that idea, for some reason. He began explaining what each component did and how to apply it sparingly to avoid looking like a character out of a cartoon. I tried to pay attention, but it was too much, too fast, for me to catch it all. He told me not to worry, as he'd give me a few prepared video disks which I could review at my leisure. When he turned my chair around an hour or so later to show me the results of his efforts, my jaw fell open in awe. If it wasn't for the scar on my nose, I'd look good! I couldn't believe what he accomplished in so short a time. Don came up behind me. "That's better. You're looking great, kid!" The attendant thanked Don for the compliment. Don slipped him a fifty dollar bill and told the guy we'd be back for a touch-up in the morning. While her son was performing his magic on my appearance, the proprietress was busy filling an empty rack with several blouses, skirts, slacks, dresses and a few women's business suits. She took me into a changing cubicle and had me try on all of them, discarding the outfits that didn't fit me properly in her estimation. I couldn't tell if she was right or wrong. To me, clothes were something you bought off a rack, if you liked how it looked. I never dwelled on making a clothing selection. Being a savvy business woman, she told me in a very polite way that women were more critical than men in selecting outer wear, and far more critical when selecting intimate apparel. Then, she showed me several different lovely confections, neatly packaged to impress. I didn't know what to say, so I told her that I wasn't interested in buying any foundations. I was lying, of course, because I wanted to try on at least one of the creations she was showing me, just for the fun of it. "Nonsense, your boyfriend asked me to show these to you, so you'd pick a few of them out. You don't want to disappoint your boyfriend. Do you?" "He did?" Somehow she got the impression Don was my boyfriend. Did he give her that impression I wondered? If so, was I the "boyfriend and Don was my "man" friend, as he was at least ten years my senior? "This black Basque will transform your torso into lovely looking curves with a bit of lacing, once you begin taking feminine hormones. You should, so your boyfriend will adore you in it once you achieve your ideal weight and shape. You do intend to begin a feminine hormone regimen. Don't you?" "I've been thinking about it, but I'm still undecided. It's a big step." She gave me three different magazines published by a local transgendered women's organization to read, saying that the ads inside from doctors in the area and providers of other services for the transgendered who could help me to make up my mind. "Don't read them now, dear. Take them home and read them when you have some time to yourself. The club holds meetings and social events every month, and all are welcome. Keep it in mind." With that, she continued to have me try on several more outfits. "You have to choose which outfits you like. Some of these don't fit you very well, and will need to be altered. Others you can take with you today. I take it you are new to the scene and don't have an extensive wardrobe yet. Your boyfriend offered me five hundred dollars in cash, for you to build your feminine stash considerably if you're still in the closet. If you're first coming out, we'll do our best to help you make the selections. We have two floors full of elegant designs to choose from. I'm well known for not overcharging customers, so don't worry about prices. Whenever a customer makes a sizable purchase, I price the selections reasonably to assure the customer comes back for more. "You really need a few quality undergarments to assist your torso to adapt to lovely, feminine contours. Both of these padded models will accomplish that admirably," I asked her to wrap up both models. I needed them to disguise my flat chest. She added a pair of sleek black nylons to each box. I asked her to include a few more pairs of nylons in various shades to my order. I didn't have any nylons at all and looked forward to trying them on, to see if I'd like wearing nylons. They make most women's legs look long and sleek. I looked up to see Don in the doorway to the cubicle, watching me intently. He pointed to his watch with a bent finger, indicating the time. Before he appeared, I had been idly wondering if my wearing nylon stockings would enhance the look of my muscular calves, hoping they would. I wanted all the help I could get to pull off this charade. I wondered why Don was willing to spend so much money on me, though. He shouldn't have. Don whispered something to the proprietress, and she responded by saying, "Of course, we can deliver. Pick out what you want to take now, and we'll wrap it, and package it up for you to take with you. Leave us your address and we'll have the balance delivered there discreetly by tomorrow evening." I discovered wearing women's clothes was more fun than I thought it would be, because of the massive variety of styles available to choose from, unlike men's styles which are very limited by comparison. I was amazed how many items I was able to acquire for the amount of money Don had put up for my initial purchase of women's clothes. I picked out what I wanted to try on right away and made a second pile of items to be delivered. Regrettably, we left more clothes to be delivered than we took with us. Once we were back at the motel room, I spent the balance of the afternoon trying on different outfits I had brought with to try on. Don told me he was creating a monster due to the way I was so absorbed in what I was doing. "Well, I must say, Mel. Women's clothes suit you much better than men's, now that you're wearing a bit of makeup. Tomorrow we'll go see a lawyer about suing the negligent driver of the car that resulted in that scar on your nose to evaluate your chances for succeeding in court." "Won't they wonder about my identity, I mean the way I'm dressed?" "No one was paying much attention to you once a fight between the drivers of the two cars broke out. I doubt if any bystanders can recall if you were a man or a woman, the way some women dress for work. It's quite normal for a woman to dress like a man these days, but it's not socially acceptable for a man to dress as a woman. Keep that in mind the next time you hear women crying out about inequality. What gives women the right to flaunt their hot bodies in flimsy, skin-hugging, breast projecting and revealing finery while men are required to wear staid, boring clothing? This venture of yours into their realm gives you a chance to overcome the obstacle men must tolerate." After we dined quietly on a couple of beef sandwiches and a six pack of cold beer delivered by a local restaurant chain, Don and I spent the balance of the evening inside the motel room, with him looking at a wireless monitor from video cameras hidden in the van parked right outside of our room, giving him four different views of the surroundings, while I read through the three magazines given to me by the proprietress of "Transformations" and later, watching the late news and some boring "late-night" television show. Don was paying far more attention to his silent monitor than he was to me, in my makeup, dressed up like a woman for him to admire. I wished he be more attentive to me, as I was doing everything he asked me to do, so he'd like me as much as I liked him for offering to be my protector. I couldn't help but like the guy, since he was being a take charge action hero figure, the kind I played with hours on end as little boy, my imaginary ideal soldier. Okay, so Don was really a medic in the service in real life, and not a warrior. So what! He was still out in the field, in active combat zones. Wasn't he? He patched up the guys that got injured in battle, until the Evac choppers arrived to shuttle them off to safety. That was really an important job! He saved the lives of fighting men so they could return to duty and fight again. Don was acting like he was on active duty again, but not as a soldier. He was my self-appointed personal body guard instead, though for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he chose to do it. I welcomed his chivalrous nature, just the same, extremely grateful for his coming to my aid when I was struck by two different projectiles from those crashing autos, and later on, when he did his best to conceal my odd adornment at my groin while on my way to the hospital to get stitched up. With Don on guard by the door, relaxing in a chair between me and the door, I felt safe, safer than I'd felt in a long time, like back when I was growing up in Indiana in a small town, away from the hustle and bustle of a big city like Chicago. I wore a nightgown, instead of my pajamas to bed, feeling secure in spite of what I was wearing: a short baby doll, something I that wouldn't even think of wearing before I'd met Don. He made it seem appropriate for me to look and feel feminine, like I was supposed to be one, even if I wasn't really a woman, simply because he wanted me to pose as one until he sorted out my inner fears over what might happen to me next. I dozed off dreaming about what it must have been like to serve our country in battle on foreign soil, far away from home and the safety of our protected borders. 6. P.O.V. Mel: The following morning, when we left the motel room, I assumed we were headed for a lawyer's office to determine if my filing a lawsuit against the careless driver who caused the scar on my nose was merited or not. Instead, Don took me a doctor who he knew from his stint in the service. Along the way, Don explained to me that this man had resumed his medical training after being mustered out and eventually became a plastic surgeon. P.O.V. Don: Hey, Steve, it's good to see you have a successful practice. It's been a long time. I'm sorry I haven't touched base with you sooner. Mel Evans, meet doctor Steve Line." "It's good to see you too, Don. I assume you want me to rid your friend here of the scar on his proboscis and from the looks of how he is dressed, you want to help him transform into someone lovely?" He posed it as a question, although he knew the answer, already. "Yeah, that's two main reasons we're here to see you. We'd also like your professional opinion about legally pursuing the insurer of the auto that sent broken pieces of metal flying through the air to cause her less than appealing nose injury, and another injury that isn't visible. The freak accident caused the two injuries, and I'd like the responsible party to pay for your services. "One other thing: since we're here, Doc... I'd like you to take an x- ray or a scan of a device she's wearing to see if it can be removed easily. She seems to think it can't, but I'm not convinced she's right about that." "It's a chastity device, I take it?" "It's a bit more than that, it's an elaborate, metallic, floral decoration that is attached to the base of her torso with thin wires that have barbs protruding in every direction so it will cause severe hematoma if she attempts to remove it by herself." He took the envelope with the sample of the thin gold wire from his pocket and gave to his doctor friend. "This is a sample of the wire that is supposedly holding the device in place. As you can see, if the plastic shield is slid off the wire, tiny barbs in multiple directions are exposed." "Interesting, and an insidious deterrent to removal by a layman, I must say. But, if it is the kind of wire used to attach the decoration, how was the thin plastic covering removed, once the wire was threaded through the epidermis like a catheter? See how the plastic can be rotated back onto the bare wire without damage to the protective plastic coating? "I think an enlarged ultra-sound image can easily determine if this kind of wire was used, which I doubt. The damage the barbs can cause would occur continually and the wounds would get infected too easily. Any movement at all would cause the wire to inflict new wounds. High- resolution ultra-sound will reveal what we want to know with only the three of us getting involved. Taking X-rays or a cat-scan would require the assistance of the technicians operating the equipment." "Good thinking, doc. How long would it take you to set up the ultra- sound equipment? I have an errand to run in the meantime if it'll take you more than an hour or two." "You won't be of much use while I'm running the ultrasound. You can leave Mel- uh, your friend Melissa here with me while you run that other errand. Come back in a few hours and I may have the results ready to go over with you by then, if not shortly afterwards. Knowing you, due to the device you mentioned, your friend here has reason to be want to be well protected. You can depend on me to be discreet and very cautious. You know that. No one else will even know she is here." "Yes, I figured I could depend on you, Doc; that's why I brought her here. It may be my imagination, but I swear she shows symptoms of undue stress for some other reason, maybe from induced psychological trauma. It has to stop, and maybe between us we can resolve what it is that's bothering her. Don't be too surprised if you notice a few pieces to the puzzle missing when you do the ultra-sound of her groin." "Oh? Okay, I'll remember that and try to not disturb anything." "Supposedly, the wires are wrapped around the prostate gland, too. I think it's unlikely, but you never know. The bastard who had all this done to her was playing for keeps. He wasn't satisfied with having the lad castrated. The bastard wanted further retribution for the threat of jail and expense of trial for which he had to pay by mortgaging everything he owned to the hilt. "The decorative medallion was his latest form of punishment for the lad's attempt to violate the man's daughter. All the kid wanted was to get a blow job from a steady girlfriend. That's it! Now he's a castrata, doc." "How can I get in touch with you quickly, if I need to, Don?" "I'll return as soon as I can, in as little as a few hours from now. I only need to consult with a good lawyer friend about filing a lawsuit against the driver of the car to recover your cost of your giving her a nose-job." "You have a friend that's a lawyer? That's a new one! Don't give it a second thought. I owe you, big time, Don. You bailed me out back I was a neophyte and didn't know diddly-squat what I was doing. If not for you, I would have given up my dreams of becoming a doctor. You gave me the determination to finish medical school. You may not realize it, but you bring out the best in people with your stick-to- it-tive-ness." "All I did was what I was supposed to do in those circumstances. Nothing I did was anything out of the ordinary. You were a novice and I was the old timer. Sure, you learned a few things from me back then, but look at who's the medical expert now!" "Yeah, thanks to you! You gave me the courage to survive my enlistment, when I needed it, and to pursue acquiring my degree in medicine afterwards, Don. For that, I'll be forever grateful." "Do the ultrasound for me, and we can call it even. How's that." P.O.V. Mel; The two were talking as if I wasn't even in the room, which perturbed me a bit, because I didn't like feeling like an errant child, even if they did have a few years on me. Don was leaving without saying goodbye, until I stopped him and begged him not leave me with someone I didn't know. With and arm on my shoulder he told me not to worry, that he trusted the other man in the room with us with his life on many occasions, and never once felt he had to worry. "You can depend on Dr. Steven Line the same as you can depend on me, Mel. He's good as gold, in my book." His encouragement made me feel a little better, but I still didn't like the idea of exposing my daisy to anyone new. Due to the derision I had to endure. "Well, Mel, remove your slacks and underwear, if you have any, get up onto the exam table and place your feet into the stirrups to give me access to your groin area." I cautiously did as he instructed, and he sat down on a low stool between my outstretched legs and said: "Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit. I will first apply a cool feeling salve before I perform the ultra sound. I'll then place the head of a blunt metal instrument against your groin under the metal decorative piece, because the sensor will not register what is under your skin through the --- uh, medallion." "You can call it a medallion if you'd like. I call it a metallic daisy, doc. It's not really a medallion, and for your information, it's not a pansy, either." "Hmm, I'm looking at the high resolution ultrasound monitor. That piece of wire with barbs that Don had shown to me was a ruse. There are no barbs in the small loops of wire securing the device to the skin of your torso," I felt him more the head of the probe further down between my legs, down under my empty ball sac, where my testicles had once resided. "Furthermore, I can plainly see that there are no wires of any kind looped around your prostate gland. I can safely remove the daisy from your groin if you'd like me to, Mel." "No, no, doc, please don't try! I know that something terrible will happen to me if you remove the daisy! I don't know for sure what, but I'm positive something bad will happen, right away! I know it will! I don't even know how I know it will, but I know that I know!" "As you wish, we'll wait for Don to return. Then the three of us can decide what to do. I can plainly see all six wires in the ultra-sound's monitor. None of them have barbs. Then again, we can examine one of the wires before Don gets back? May I remove just one?" "I suppose, just don't remove them all, or something bad is sure to happen." "How about if I just snip off one end of a short wire loop attaching the daisy to your torso, remove a part and examine it, to make sure it doesn't have any barbs hidden beneath the surface of your skin? That way, when Don returns, we can assume all of the wires are the same, and are safe to remove." "Remove just one? I suppose it won't matter, if you leave the rest of them." I heard a loud snip from his severing a wire, and heard the doctor telling me I might feel a slight pain as he rotates the loop of wire pulls it from beneath my skin. "The short wire has a thin thread attached that's a lot longer than it ought to be. It's coming out, so it may be connected to the next wire loop around the circumference of the daisy for some reason." "Ow! Ow! What did you just do? I just felt something bite me hard, twice on the left cheek of my rump, doc. Oh, no! I bet that thin thread is connected to my prostate gland, and I'm going to have to wear adult diapers for the rest of my life! Damn it, anyhow! I knew that something bad was going to happen if you disconnected the wire and it did. Oh, Ow! Ow! I felt it bite me again twice, but on the right cheek of my butt, doc. What' is happening? I feel odd, doc, like I'm going to pass out, any minute." "The wire had a thin invisible nylon thread attached to it. According to the ultra-sound monitor, you have medication implants in your butt cheeks. To ascertain what the drugs being administered are, I'll have to extricate them surgically. To do that, I'll need to alert my staff to prepare a surgical theatre. I won't be able to continue to keep your presence here a secret if I do." "All of a sudden, I feel woozy, doc. Regardless of what kind of medication is being dumped into my system, it's doing it; it's too late to stop it; it's - too -- late --- to ---- do ----- anything ------ about -------it." I felt my senses were shutting down slowly, one by one, first my ability to speak, then my vision, and I could hear the doctor voice fading away, as he was shaking me, trying to wake me. Somehow, I knew I wasn't going to die, and that was all that mattered to me. "Tell ------ Don, ------thanks ----- for----being ------a------ pal, ------- and---- ----for------trying. Before I lost my senses completely, I heard the doctor quickly wrapping a cuff onto my arm and I heard beeping from a different kind of monitor that was tracking my vitals. If I was about to die from a sudden release of lethal drugs into my system, at least, I'd be aware of it happening. A steady drone from the new monitor was telling me that my vitals were consistent, which meant I wasn't going into a coma. Good news? Hardly, but yeah, I wasn't going to kick off from a drug overdose, not yet, leastwise. After a while, I heard a commotion in the room. Don must have returned, as I heard voices as if from far away. The doctor was talking to Don. His voice sounded odd, as if he was speaking in a very deep voice into a long hallway from the far end. He was telling Don that I'd been in a semi-conscious state for a good part of the time that he was away, and that I'd been hallucinating. "Is she in any danger?" Don asked the doctor. "You kept referring to him as a woman earlier, so I did likewise to be polite, but he's still a man, and always will be one, because of his xy chromosomes, regardless of his loss of his testicles. I snipped one of the gold ring-shaped wires that attached the medallion to his pubic mound. When pulling the ring out from under his skin, I didn't notice a fine nylon thread that was attached to it until the ring was close to a foot away. To me, it seemed like a trail of viscous fluid. He suddenly cried out in pain and claimed something had bit him on his left butt cheek. Less than ten seconds later, he claimed something bit him on the right butt cheek." "I immediately turned him over to examine his butt cheeks with ultra- sound and observed that he has slow-release implants imbedded in both cheeks. I don't think the drugs that he's getting now are dangerous to his health, and he seemed to know something bad would happen if we tried to remove the medallion from his torso. He told me he didn't know what, but he knew it would be bad, not deadly; just that it wouldn't be very good health wise. "I then took a sample of his blood and had it analyzed by my phlebotomist, not revealing who the patient is. I just told her I needed the results stat! What I learned from the blood analysis doesn't amaze me. He's receiving a fairly high dose of feminine hormones he wasn't getting when he first arrived this morning. He's also receiving a mild hypnotic, which was probably meant to enable someone else to influence his basic reasoning and instill a submissive attitude, so he won't resist being 'brainwashed'." Don finally responded. "It may also account for his being unconscious right now. We can learn a lot about who did this to him with careful questioning, or we can enhance Mel's ability to reason and erase the submissiveness, so he'll have a better chance of survival in the real world. It must be a living hell to be constantly afraid. Whatever else we can achieve, that's one thing that I hope to accomplish with this kid, Doc." "Don, consider this. Why did you bring him here to me? Since he no longer has his testicles, his skin has become softer and he's lost of lot of the hair on his body. That's probably what prompted you to consider a change in his lifestyle that would make him more difficult to find. I noticed that he doesn't have any pubic hair. That was removed with electrolysis or lasers before the medallion was attached to his mound to avoid infections and ease cleansing of the pubic area. He knows enough to maintain good hygiene in the region, either consciously, or he was taught how by someone utilizing subconscious suggestion. That suggests to me that he has other deeply imbedded patterns of behavior initiated, as well. "If it was your intent to have him hide in plain sight as a woman, it won't work to his benefit in the long run, because that's exactly what whoever did this to him may want of him. In my opinion, they groomed him to become a neutered sex slave, probably for a specific foreign market, where he'll garner a handsome price. In some regions, eunuchs are highly prized chattel, since they perform as effectively as natural women, but are unable to get pregnant. Orientals export a great number of lady boys to this continent because of the lads' ability to emulate womanhood undetected. They covet occidentals with the same characteristics. The purchasers prefer younger men who are docile by nature, easy to control and were involuntarily converted into sex-toys." "I know. I read up on it when I was in the orient. They have a penchant for brainwashing captured enemy soldiers. It is a favorite past time of theirs to change a mean, lean fighting machine into a simpering faggot." "Be mindful of what you say, Don. I don't rightly know if she can hear us or not, because I haven't tried to speak to her, yet. I think it'd be better for you to try to speak to her, as her last words to me before she went out like a light was to ask me to thank you for trying. A fondness in the way that she said it to me while she was fading out makes me wonder if she has an attachment to you for what you did for her at the auto accident or immediately thereafter. It's either that or she feels you have a need to be her protector." "Yeah, I'm a sucker for helpless souls and lost causes. I have no business being involved in this kid's life, but here I am. I've already dropped some coin to insure she has a fairly decent wardrobe, if and when she comes out. To me, it's a foregone conclusion, now that I know about the drug implants. I'll do whatever it takes to protect her from getting sold into slavery. " 7. P.O.V. Mel; Don and his doctor friend didn't know I could hear them talking about me. It wasn't very clear. It sounded hollow, not normal, but I could figure out most of what they had said about me. I'd been in a deep sleep, and was coming around. I moaned so they would stop talking about me and try to talk to me. "Mel? Mel, can you hear me?" That was Don. He wanted me to answer him. I continued to keep my eyes closed and only whispered back. "I can hear you, Don. I'm so glad you're here to save me. They want me to give in and service men orally, Don. Stop them! Please, stop them?" "Stop who. Who is forcing you to do something you don't want to do?" "I don't know who they are. I only know that they locked me up in my cell without any food or water, and shined a bright light in my eyes so I couldn't sleep," Hopefully, I could tell Don and the doctor whatever they wanted to know, so they could protect me from what I feared: sexual enslavement. When Don realized I could respond to him, he asked me if I was able to tell him as much as I could remember about how I was abducted. "I was abducted from on my way home from work one evening about a year or so ago and was deprived of sleep, food and water for days on end until I'd do anything to be able to wet my parched lips. What they gave me to suck on was shaped like a thick sausage and it was filled with a thick, creamy liquid that had a very bland taste and a pungent odor," I spoke in a whisper, barely audible, so Don and the doctor with him would think that I was still talking in my sleep. "I didn't have to think very hard to figure out what the thick sausage was supposed to represent. I was told to touch it, hold it in my hands to get used to the feel of it, and learn to greedily suck on something nice and warm that was shaped the same that would provide me with a nice warm protein snack. Of course, I pushed it away disgusted, refusing to suck on the fake cock." "The laughing voices behind the blinding light told me I'd give in, sooner or later, that all castratos did once they had no other option and realized that it would be wise of them to comply. They told me I'd eager to suck on a nice thick cock when offered one after another week or so. "If not, we'll have a dentist yank out all your teeth, so you won't be able to eat for weeks more, except to suck on something, long, wet and nourishing! Ha, ha, ha!" "After a week or so of being trapped inside a cold cell without any clothes, with only a bucket for my bodily eliminations, they offered me another fake cock. This time I took it from them and drank from the blunt end of it. It was sweet and creamy tasting, and I was grateful to have it. Each day after that, they offered me another, and each one was filled with a creamy substance that tasted less like cream and more like buttermilk. It was still nourishing, so I drank it down without hesitation, and was glad to get it. After that, the buttermilk inside of the thick sausages got thinner and thinner, until it was mostly water. I was deprived of nourishment for another week or so, until I begged them to give me something, anything to drink. My mouth was parched so bad, I would have gladly welcomed the plain water. Instead, they offered me a man's cock dipped in honey, rich, sweet, delicious honey. "I quickly sucked the honey off the head of it and spat back out the cock just as quickly. The following day, I was offered another honey dipped treat. By then, I was so hungry, I let the cock rest inside my mouth so I could savor the sweet taste of the honey a little longer. The next day, the thick honey was poured onto the base of the man's erect cock. If I wanted any, I would have to take more of the man's cock into my mouth. The laughing man promised me the rest of the jar of honey if I'd lick all of the honey off of his cock. "When I took his erect cock into my mouth deep enough to reach the honey on it, he put both of his hands through the bars of my cell on the back of my head and began to rock back and forth. The honey on his cock lubricated my throat, desensitizing it, so that I didn't care. He kept repeating that he'd give me the entire jar of honey if I swallowed his load. I wanted that honey! I was already a cock sucker, so I swallowed my pride and his load, as he asked. "He then told me that I'd get the whole jar of honey that day as he promised, but it would all be slathered on erect cocks, either his or other men's. By that time, I didn't care. I had already ingested his sperm, and was still emaciated from close to a month of food and sleep deprivation. I was oh, so hungry! "Did your doing what they forced you to do make you feel less of a man?" "No, I don't think so. By then, I was so desperate for something to eat and so tired from being constantly blinded by the intense light pointed at my bed, I was half crazy and would have done anything, if they'd only give me some solid food and let me sleep a while." "Did they feed you then?" "Yes, not very much but it wasn't sausage. It was pasty, an unsalted oatmeal. It had very little taste. Then the lead man offered more honey coated cocks if I wanted something sweet to eat. He said he'd shut off the bright light and let me go to sleep if I'd do a good job on his cock. I was so exhausted, I did what he asked. I gave him what I thought was a real good blow job. Doing it disgusted me, and I almost heaved my guts out a few times, but I managed to finish and swallow, just to be able to sleep for a while. "To let me sleep for a little while, I was given a short nightgown to wear to bed. I refused to wear the thing. It was so thin it wouldn't have offered any warmth, and it further emasculated me. They intended to rob me of my self-esteem. My giving the main guy and other men oral was bad enough. I felt the urge to toss my cookies every time I had to debase myself by resorting to gay sex for them. I wasn't going to wear something that would make me feel like a whimpering sissy and force me deeper into their clutches." "You managed to get away. How did you accomplish that?" "I heard loud noises outside of my cell that sounded familiar. The primary contact man came into my cell to talk me into to putting on the nightgown. He slapped me around a half-dozen times or so times, carefully, so as not to bruise my face much when I repeatedly refused to wear it. He then forcefully put the flimsy nightgown over my head and forced me to wear it. He told me I'd be treated better if I obeyed them willingly. I nodded my head to let him know that I understood what he said. "He then started to feel me up. I resisted at first, but then let him do what he wanted, when I realized I didn't have much choice. After I let him caress me like a girl, he kissed me on my lips. I don't know why, but I let him do it. I'd rather have kissed a rattle snake. "He smirked and called me a wimp for giving in so easily. He then told me I was the easiest guy he ever 'turned'. I resented that more than anything else he claimed about me." "Anyway, after he kissed me on the lips, he sat with me on my bunk and told me to be nice to him, or else. Then, he held my head down and urged me to fellate him again. By then, it wasn't a big deal. I'd given head over a dozen times by then and was getting used to being forced to do it. "My primary tormentor turned off the bright light as he left my cell and said he'd be back later to tuck me in. When he returned, he stuck a sharp needle attached to a syringe into my butt and laughed at me as he slowly depressed its plunger. I took a very long nap after that, as I recall, and woke up several times still wearing the nightgown he put on me, or one like it. If it was the same one, someone had taken it off of me and washed it, because every time I woke up in it, it smelled fresh as a daisy, how prophetic!" "I wasn't aware of what they'd done to my groin at the time because I wore a bandage or what might have been a diaper under the nightgown from how it felt up against my body. I attributed wearing a diaper to my being asleep for a long time from the injection I'd received. I didn't know that I was out long enough for the intricate wires of my blossom attaching it to my torso to heal sufficiently to enable me to be then taught how to keep it clean. "I went into deep shock when they first took the diaper off of me, telling me how cute I looked with a metallic daisy around the head of my stunted penis, per my new owner's request. They advised me I'd been bought and paid for by a wealthy benefactor and my groin was modified to his specifications. "I was told I'd have no use for my penis as a man would any longer, so my new owner wanted it suitably decorated, to deter his trophy wife from using it for her pleasure. Instead, he'd use my throat for his personal penetration whenever he was in the mood for receiving oral sex from a trained sissy. The majority of my time in his service, I'd be his wife's submissive attendant, because she enjoyed receiving oral from boy-toys dressed as sexy maids. "My trainer advised me that some rich benefactors grew tired of personal sex slaves after a time and replaced them, which was to his advantage, as it made his venture more lucrative. He trafficked in human bondage! "He then claimed it might be to my advantage, if my owner was satisfied with my personal services. If not, the benefactor would attempt to recover a part of his initial cost by reselling me off to a second owner. In any event, I wouldn't have to be concerned with having something to eat or a roof over my head. He told me I'd get used to living on a protein rich diet, in no time. "The bastard laughed right in my face as he said it, intentionally demeaning me, as if I wasn't worthy of receiving the least bit of respect or common decency. I swore under my breath that I'd escape from his evil clutches and make him pay for doing that to me. He didn't know it, but he unintentionally provided me with the inner resolve to resist him by mocking me to my face and treating me like inhuman chattel." "How did you get away?" the doctor asked. "After they attached the daisy to my groin, I had to take a shower every day to keep my groin clean. I also had to use a real toilet instead of a bucket for my bodily eliminations. That gave me minimal freedom of movement from inside of my cramped cell. I watched for any possible means of escape as I made my way to and from the common shower and toilet area. "During one of my routine daily trips to the showers, I heard that loud noise again and wondered what caused it. Then, I remembered. It was the sound of a dumpster being dropped off of a truck. I knew I'd heard that sound before! From inside the privacy of the shower, I used the plumbing and shower head to climb to the top of cement tile divider. From there, I was able to reach for a small window at the top of the outer wall of the shower room and slip out through it, silently, totally unnoticed. "All I managed to take with me was that damn short nightgown they made me wear all the time. I climbed into a parked dumpster that had been filled already and waited quietly inside under the rubbish until a truck came for it to take the dumpster to a trash site. "At the trash site, I hung onto the front wall of the dumpster for dear life while it was being emptied out the back end. I survived and rode the empty dumpster back to the marshalling yard and hid inside of the empty dumpster until it got dark and activity around the place slowed to a snail's pace. When I felt it was safe to look over the edge of the empty dumpster, I did and saw an office at the far end of the lot. I pushed open the tailgate and got out. "I crept over to the small office building quietly, hoping to find something to wear. After all, it was a trucking company. Men worked there, so there had to be some kind of work clothes around to pilfer. Once inside a locker room, I found a few pairs of pants hanging in lockers that might fit me, and heavy denim work shirts. Bonanza! Then, I heard a noise from behind me. "The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake by a group of men, back inside of the empty dumpster, blindfolded, with my hands tied up behind my back, still wearing that dreaded sheer nightgown, I must have looked quite a sight to the group of workers that were gathered around me. My ankles were tied together, so I wasn't able to stand. I barely managed to get to my knees, which caught the men's attention. Did I mention my captor had put lipstick on me and combed my hair down over my forehead, so it looked like I had bangs?" "It sounds like you were still in trouble. Then what happened?" Don asked. "I already told you what happened after the men forced me to service them. They used me like a trussed up sex strumpet and then one of them inquired as to where the dumpster had been used last. While they were contacting the construction site, I got dressed and tried to high tail it out of there. One of the truck drivers saw me and offered to give me a lift. Of course he wanted something from me in exchange. I was used to being used by men by then, so I was happy to oblige him. He knew I was shoeless and penniless, so he gave me a couple of twenties and dropped me off at a shopping center, "I used the money he gave me to buy underwear and a pair of deck shoes. That was all I could afford. I was alone, penniless and in a bigger city, far from home. I knew I couldn't go back home. That would be the first place my captors would look for me, so I headed in the opposite direction, hoping to figure out what to do next along the way. "I washed a lot of dishes to obtain meager meals and a few dollars, and even put on a few pounds. I made my way all the way to Chicago, thinking jobs would be more plentiful in a big city. I was right. I found a job right away. It wasn't anything to write home about, but I managed to rent a one room flat and put food on my table." "You can open your eyes, Mel. We both know that you're awake." I opened my eyes. "How could you tell?" Don responded first, "Your voice modulated and your breathing was uneven. People in a trance speak in a monotone and their respiration is very regular. Yours wasn't." The doctor added. "I watched your vital signs on the monitor carefully while you spoke. Your pulse became erratic whenever you mentioned performing fellatio on one of your captors, more so then when you spoke of doing the same act for the men at the trucking company's parking lot. You evidently are holding a deep grudge against the men who captured you, rightfully so." "Of course I do. Wouldn't you? How would you like to walk around with a shrunken cock, poking through the center of a metal daisy? It's embarrassing to say the least, and it doesn't exactly feel terrific when I sit down and one of the petals jabs me in the groin, doc. Trouble is, I knew that something would go wrong if you tried to take the gadget off of me, and I was right. I didn't know what would go wrong, but we didn't have much of a choice about removing it. Did we?" "Would you have preferred to have me leave it undisturbed? Leastwise, we now know the implants inside of your buttocks are only releasing feminizing hormones into your system from the blood samples I took after I disengaged the thin nylon trigger mechanisms." "Only? You're not concerned about my being injected with continual heavy doses of feminizing hormones?" "Not really, the worse they will do to you is enable you to become womanly a bit more quickly than planned, without incurring any further cost. I would have prescribed the same hormones for you that are coursing through your bloodstreams right now, free of charge." "That isn't funny, doc. I'm not sure I want to look like a woman yet. Don is, but I'm concerned it may backfire in the long run, like my filing suit against my girlfriend's father. The guys who abducted me were planning to make me over into a woman. Why should we accommodate them?" "Because you bolted when you realized they sold your sorry ass into sexual slavery to some rich bastard that plays with people like his personal pets." "I'll still be a sex object. What difference does it makes who changes me?" "You still don't get it. Their principle product line is humiliated, subjugated men, who were unwilling to become sissified sex slaves. What good are you to them if you want to be changed into a woman? You defeat the purpose of the rich buyer if he can't humiliate you by making you his personal pleasure provider. The guy gets his kicks because you're not a willing slave. If you are, he loses all interest in you and wants his money back. Don't you see?" "Yeah, I see, and he'll get his money back by selling me off to one of his cronies with similar tastes in feminized males." Don said, "Not if you are already attached to someone else, namely me." "Why would you, Don? You don't owe me anything," I replied. "Look, Mel. I haven't been on a field mission worth mentioning for some time now. Once the bug gets under a person's skin, it's hard to shake it off. Even as a medic, I participated in a lot of worthy causes. I kind of like you, Mel, maybe not the way you want me to like you, but trust me, I do like you. "You've given me a lot of information about a heinous criminal that ought to be brought to justice. I have to do some digging, but I'm sure to find the guy that installed that gadget on you in the first place. I'm going to track him down and make him regret he ever chose you for a target. Secondly, the guy didn't pop up out of nowhere all of a sudden. Someone put him up to it, the nasty daddy of your girlfriend, one of his two sons, or maybe it was an eager opportunist laying in the wings waiting for a likely target to show up. Either way, I want to know who was behind your being Shanghaied. When I learn the identity of the culprit, I'll decide on how to deal with him --- or her." "Do you think it could have been a woman, Don?" "I won't dismiss the possibility until I have it checked out. You gave me plenty of information, Mel. You probably don't realize how much pertinent information you provided. I told you before. I don't want you worrying over what you can't control, so if I fail to keep you well informed, you'll have to forgive me. The same goes for you, doc. I'll keep you both posted on a need to know basis. First things first, doc. Fix Mel's nose, and put it on my bill." 8. P.O.V. Mel. "The two of them laughed over his wisecrack about who would pay the bill for removing the scar from my nose. I was learning quickly. Don was an excellent negotiator. If I was to choose someone to convince the insurer of the negligent driver who caused an auto accident that resulted in a deep cut requiring stitches to my nose, I'd have chosen Don. I barely knew the man, but he exuded confidence from every pore in his body! I was sure I wouldn't have to sign away my life to pay off my medical bills after listening to them barter. I didn't have financial resources at my disposal. The med pro man he took me to must feel the same way about Don as I do, because he agreed to fix my nose, never once asking for reimbursement. He automatically knew he wouldn't have to worry about being paid. One thing Don couldn't resolve for me was the pain I'd have to endure to get my nose straightened out and the scar removed. The doctor said making my nose smaller would require removing some cartilage from inside of it first. Then he'd attend to hiding the scar. He told me to not worry about the pain, because I'd be sedated most of the time during and after the procedures, for as long he felt would be necessary to assure I didn't spoil my facial features during the healing process by scratching at it or something equally stupid. Was he kidding? I couldn't tell. The doctor got right to making the arrangements for my facial modification. He had to fit me into his schedule, but he managed. A week later, I was in a recovery room, bandaged up for close to a month and wasn't able to see the results of his magic until then. Don stopped by nearly every day to check on how I was coming along. While I was at the clinic, Don said he did some digging to find out who was responsible for my original abduction and why. I already knew my castration the previous year was responsible for the shrinking of my male appendage and why I'm unable to produce much testosterone. He told me the purpose of the penile daisy shaped decoration was probably meant to humiliate me more than to deprive me of means to achieve/enjoy sexual gratification from what was left of my manhood. From a previous comment I made to Don, he knew I received more sensual gratification from the stroking of my nipples than from stoking the exposed head of my otherwise hidden penis. He added, "I'm not saying we treat everyone equally, but money talks and bullshit walks, so a lot of people with money can get what they want. Using drugs and other stimuli, a person can be convinced he deserves to be treated as a sex slave. If a rich person is willing to pay, he can buy about anything. "You were abducted to be sold as a sex slave, perhaps to a rich sadist in a country where it is common for the rich to enslave the less fortunate. Oh, we have our own sadists in this country, to be sure, but we outlawed outright slavery almost two hundred years ago. Nowadays, they use subtle subterfuge and hallucinatory drugs to coerce people with low self-esteem to relinquish their autonomy. They then convince them they need to obey others or suffer dire consequences. For instance, your captors had you believing something terrible would happen to you if your medallion was removed." "Something terrible did happen when the doctor tried to remove it, Don." "Did it, Mel? You thought so, right when he snipped the first wire, but the doctor tested your blood for poisons and only found an androgen inhibitor and a lot of feminizing hormones coursing through your bloodstreams. Prior to that, you had been getting male androgens to keep you looking male, as per directives of whoever was paying your captors to train you to be a docile male sex slave who would satisfy both his hedonistic states and those of his trophy wife. Your captors are having a lot of difficulty finding someone to replace you, so you are still being sought and are still in danger." "How do you know this?" "Fortunately, these cockroaches have to crawl out of the woodwork to make subtle inquiries about people on the run from them. I treat people well. They often reciprocate in kind. I have a friend who owes me, big time. He lives on the fringe, but he always remembers those who have treat him with dignity and respect. "Word got around regarding the auto accident that put you in an emergency room where your decoration caused a bit of a stir. He relayed what he found out to me. Your abductors had tracked you down to your apartment. If you hadn't left it when you did, you would have been recaptured and on your way to your prospective new owner by now. "They know you boarded a train headed for San Francisco, but they don't know if or where you left the train. Oh, I suspect they find out eventually, but by then, they'll be looking for a scared young man without much in the way of resources." "Oh Don! They're bound to figure out where I am. Won't they?" "Probably, but by then you won't be of much value to them, unless they can get their hands on you once again to remove the feminizing implants in your butt and replace them with testosterone emitting implants so you'll revert to looking like a man again. They'll still have a hard time trying to eradicate your breasts." "My breasts! What breasts!" "The feminizing hormones coursing through your bloodstreams have already helped your latent mammary glands to enlarge a little. It will take about six months for you to achieve an appreciative bosom, but it will be all natural, and not from implants. Steve feels you'll resent having boobs that don't look or respond like the real McCoy. I happen to agree with his opinion." "I still don't understand why you are doing all this for me, Don? The doctor, the nose job, the feminization, the visit to the transformation studio; it's your doing for the most part. I wouldn't know where to begin if I wanted to hide in plain view. I still don't know how I'll be able to survive, once I look like a woman, if I'll look like a woman. I won't be able to pull it off. I'll still walk and talk like a man, so it will all be for naught. Then, what will I do?" "Those hormones are more effective than you realize. You need confidence in your ability to adapt, Mel. It won't be a cakewalk, but you'll have to learn just like natural born women learn, by emulating other women around you. Acting is an art form. You'll have to act like a woman all of the time until it becomes second nature to you. "As to why I'm doing this for you, all you need to know is that my job in the service was to bail men's sorry asses out of eminent danger when they were unable to fend for themselves due to injuries they sustained in battle. It was a tough assignment at times, and I wasn't always successful. Some of the men didn't make it to safety." "What has that have to do with helping me?" "You were in eminent danger, with nowhere to turn. I was right there and saw your dilemma. I couldn't just walk away. I had to step up and bail your sorry ass out of trouble. It's in my nature and I have the ability. I was trained to help others in need. In a way, you are a godsend to me. You give my life purpose once again, Mel." "What are you planning to do, once I'm released from the clinic by Steve, Don? I can't go back to my old job, not if I'll look like a woman. Without any money, with no job, and no place to live how will I survive?" "You can go back to doing your old job, at a different employer, eventually, maybe in a different city. You just won't go back in your previous identity. We'll create a new one for you, something completely appropriate." "That will take time and money, Don." "Don't worry about money. You can live with me at my place for as long as you like. I like you, Mel, and enjoy your company. I haven't had very many visitors of late. In return, you can clean up the place for me. I have too much room for one person, anyway. It's a mess. I need a housekeeper. Would you be interested in the position?" "Would I? Oh, Don! How can I ever thank you enough?" He looked at me oddly, like he wanted to say something more to me, but he merely cupped one of my tiny nipples, and said, "You're going to need new clothes in another month or so. These nubbins show, and they'll continue to grow bigger. Before you know it, you'll be wearing skirts and blouses with all the right curves, teasing the hell out of me, you chameleon!" I blushed at hearing him say that I was teasing the hell out of him. "Let me tease you enough so you'll to want to be intimate with me, Don. It's the only way I can think of to be able to repay your kindness to me. If you recall, ---" "Yes, I recall how you approached the subject when I first offered to assist you. I told you then that I'm not a homophobe, but I prefer to share my bed with women. Let's wait a bit. It appears to me you're becoming more of a woman than you realize." "Does that mean I have a chance, Don?" "I must admit, that I do like you, Mel, and would like to take care of you until you can manage on your own. You're not out of the woods, by any means, so I'm insisting that you stay with me at my place unless you think living with an oldster like me is too boring," "What? How could you consider yourself boring? You're the biggest Alpha male I've ever met. You're my knight in shining armor!" "That's enough talk about me, Mel. There's something else that you should know before the doctor releases you. I'm afraid it isn't good news." "Oh?" "Yes. When Steve removed the medallion, he found that you had no pubic hair around your medallion. He expected that, to promote hygiene, but what he didn't expect to find was a tattoo; a deep purple, violet and white pansy on your groin around the head of your penis. Furthermore, the glands inside the length of your penis that would normally would expand as you become sexually excited have been removed, which is why you aren't able to erect. All that is left of your penile shaft is a hollow shell that's been inverted. If you hope to have any sex at all someday, it would have to be as a woman." "Oh, I thought so. I'm not thrilled about hearing that, but I'm not surprised, either. I thought something like that might have happened to me. There were long periods of time when I was out of it, because I'd lost some weight, no, I lost considerable amount of weight. So, the daisy shaped metallic shield and the way it was attached was meant to disguise what they really did to me." "Your potential buyer, a man for whom you were being prepared has a very devious kink. He wanted to acquire a sex slave who is male in appearance, but unable of becoming aroused sexually, who would satisfy him sexually by willingly providing him oral sex. He also wanted one from which his trophy wife could enjoy oral sex without any fear the slave would want to have normal relations with her: penile penetration. Your buyer didn't want to deprive his trophy wife the same kind of sexual gratification he'd receive from a slave, but detested the idea of performing oral sex on his wife himself or sharing his trophy wife with another man, other than for receiving oral sex from him. You were being prepared to be a dual purpose sex toy, Mel." "So, I've been neutered, castrated, my groin disfigured, and decorated, so I'm destined to be a sexless eunuch for the rest of my life. You aren't exactly full of good news today, Donald." "That's not exactly correct, Mel. You still have your prostate gland, which means you can still ejaculate if your prostate gland is stimulated, according to Steve, so there's still hope for you, Mel. I'm not keen on having sex with another man, but, from what Steve has told me, you won't look much like a man when he removes the bandages from your face and groin." "Are you saying you might want to have sex with me if I look enough like a woman to you?" "I'm saying that I'm willing to try. It's been a while since I've bedded any women, so I'm in the mood. I'm very much in the mood for love." "You mean sex, not love, don't you?" "No, if I want raw, carnal sex I can get that anytime. I'm still in good shape for a man my age, so plenty of women will welcome me to their beds, but if it is for a quickie, I'm not interested. For once in my life, I'd like to develop a relationship that has a lasting quality to it. I can't promise you a thing as of this time, Mel, but you and I hit it off from the first moment we met, though the circumstances were bizarre, to say the least." "Will I be woman enough to please you?" "That remains to be seen, but I'll try my best to accept what you are and what you can offer, if you'll do the same. If what Steve told me is anywhere near how you will look when your bandages come off and your bruises heal completely, I won't mind showing you off to all of my friends as the person who swept me off my feet. In the meantime, you'll still be on the run, and in hiding with me. However, if everything works out the way I planned, you'll be less of a target to your abductors, once they learn that you've been claimed, taken, by me, that is. They'll reconsider the advantages of continuing to pursue you, once they know that you're under my protective wing, and I'll protect you with my life, if need be. That ought to keep them at bay!" "Oh, Don, you say you'll protect me with your life? Oh, my. That sounds so romantic, almost like a proposal. Are you sure you want to?" "I'm sure enough. I don't know why, but since we met, I haven't thought much about anything but you, Mel. Not only because of what has happened to you, but because of things you say and do; the way you say and do them. As soon as I took you on, you offered to please me sexually. It turned me on, in spite of the way I feel about guys doing sexual stuff together, personal stuff. You gave me an erection. Did you know that?" "Yes, as I recall, I did notice. Do you suppose it's an indication that you'll change how you'll feel about having sex with another man?" "Well, I doubt if that will come into consideration. Doc Steve assured me you'll be able to function better as a woman from now on, as long as you continue to take oral feminizing hormones once the long-term ampules in your butt are depleted. He's willing to monitor your progress for as long as you want him to, so you'll continue to receive the proper doses." "I'll gladly do whatever your friend: Doctor Steve recommends, so long as it will make me more appealing to you, Don. Nothing would please me more than to become your main squeeze." "I'm not promising you anything, Mel. We still don't know how feminine you will look when the bandages come off. If you still look too masculine, you'll have to dress as a man until Doc Stevens can correct the problem in surgery. Hopefully, that won't be necessary. My close neighbors are used to seeing women come and go from my place. I'm a veritable slob and hate to do housework, so I have a cleaning service come in to do it for me. If you're lucky, you'll be able to pass as one of the cleaning ladies." "You don't seem to have a lot of faith in your doctor friend if you think I'll end up looking like a cleaning lady! I had my hopes up high until now, and you've deflated all the wind from my sails." Just then, Dr. Steve joined us. "Who's a bag of wind? I hope you weren't referring to me, Melissa." He called me 'Melissa' instead of 'Mel'. That was a promising sign. "Are you two ready for the grand unveiling?" We both assured him that we most certainly were. He carefully removed all the gauze and cloth bandages from my face. "Hmm, it's not too bad. It's a shame you're not a witch by trade, Mel. I wish I could have made you look prettier, but it will have to do," He passed me a hand held mirror for me to see for myself. I took the mirror from him with shaky hands, with pins and needles in my stomach and held the mirror up to my face. "You fink! I look gorgeous, even with the bruises still around my eyes!" "Of course you do! Did you ever have any doubt in my professional skill?" "Not until Don burst my bubble a minute ago, telling me I'd look like one of his cleaning ladies. You said that to me on purpose, Don! Both of you are a couple of finks!" "The bruises will fade away in no time. There's no reason you can't cover them with makeup. Then you'll be able to leave, so I can accommodate one of my paying customers. You've been free-loading off of me long enough!" "You'll be paid! You know you will. The detective I hired to approach that driver's carrier has a way with reluctant insurance companies. Carriers love to be investigated by the state's department of insurance for refusal to pay for pain and suffering. They'll gladly settle for whatever you ask!" "I'm not worried about it, Don. The important thing is how well Mel's nose and cheeks will look once the bruising fades. Bring her in to see me once a week or so. I want to provide her with a maintenance level of hormones so her musculature will decline, her skin will continue to soften and her chest will continue to expand. With any luck, depending on her mother's genetic pre-disposition, she won't need breast implants." "You mean: I'll develop breasts, just like a real woman's?" I asked. "Hopefully, if not, I'll slip in a couple of saline inserts to give you a figure to die for. From what you told us a month ago while you were in a stupor, you want to turn men's heads. Don't you? If you'd like, I can give you a pair of double "D's" and hip enhancers to match, so you'll be able to put Jessica Rabbit's image to shame. Would you like to look like a porn star?" "No thanks, just the same. I'll be grateful to settle for a modest bust line." "Well, you're free to leave anytime you'd like. I hope Don brought you some clean clothes to wear home." "I sure did, doc. I even got her a slightly padded bra, and a waist cincher, so she'll get an idea of what to expect in a month or two." "I'd rather you brought one of those corsets from "Transformations", Don." "Will you listen to her, doc? She wants curves already!" "She'll get them. It'll take time, but she will change, if she stays on a steady feminizing hormone regimen. She's far from the first boy upon whom I have performed gender bending magic. She's short and slight of build, so she is sure to turn out sexy looking as hell. I hope that's the kind of look that you were hoping for, Don." ""It's the kind of look, I want, Doc," I replied. "If I'm stuck looking like a girl, I might as well be a real looker and not some frump." In that case, you need to study some self-help videos about feminine posture and deportment Mel, so you'll learn the kind of moves that make men horny. I take it you'll want to make men lust after you. Am I right?" "There's only one man I want to lust after me, a very particular man I know who insists that he likes his women sexy looking. That guy is right her in the room with us, doc. How about it Don? Are you satisfied with Dr. Steven's work?" Don was blushing